


It's Alarming How Charming I Feel

by hailtherandom



Series: Ficmas 2k14 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Office Sex, Panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2905187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailtherandom/pseuds/hailtherandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson has a knack for paying attention to the things Clint wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Alarming How Charming I Feel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [resplendeo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/resplendeo/gifts).



> Christmas present for [res](http://resplendeo.tumblr.com)!
> 
> I take absolutely no blame for the title.

One of the most tricky parts of dating Clint Barton is figuring out what the man wants.

He’s been with SHIELD for years, under Phil’s charge for half of that, and Phil isn’t sure he’s ever met a person less likely to bring up something they actually, genuinely want. The psych department says it’s an ingrained reaction from a traumatic childhood. Romanoff says that Clint likes to be a difficult son of a bitch.

Phil thinks that he just gets a little embarrassed sometimes, having to verbalize exactly what it is that he wants.

So Phil does what he does best, what he was hired to do. He pays attention.

He makes mental notes when they’re out walking and they pass restaurants that Clint tries to covertly check the menus of. He takes pictures of price tags on his phone when Clint spends a little extra time looking at a new jacket or a shirt or a sleep hip quiver. He notices when Clint’s staring at something off in the distance when Phil comes up to ask him which tie Fury is most likely to give him extra paperwork for wearing.

He puts things together. He pays attention. Because he knows Clint won’t ask for what he wants, but Phil is going to do his best to give it to him anyway.

“I got you something,” Phil says one morning.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. I hope you’ll like it.”

Clint ties the lace of one boot, then starts tugging on the other. “Is it a secret?”

“No, no, it’s not. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted it now.”

“Yeah, sure, I've got a minute.” Clint tightens the buckles on his boots as Phil crosses the room to grab the thin box from his work bag. He hands it to Clint, who takes it in one hand as he pushes himself up with the other. “What’s this? Paycheck?”

“Why would I give you a physical check now when your salary gets deposited in the bank every month for you?”

Clint shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re the sort of perverse boss who would do that. Rely on my own forgetfulness.”

Phil’s eyebrows draw together a little in confusion, and then he shakes his head. “No, it’s not your paycheck. You’re not due for another week and a half anyway.”

“Not gonna ask why you know that.” Clint takes the lid off and pushes the flaps of tissue paper out of the way and freezes. The color doesn’t so much drain from his face as relocate to two uneven splotches over his cheeks. His eyes are wide and his nostrils are flaring and he doesn’t say anything. Phil feels a little tendril of anxiety tighten in his chest.

“Phil?” Clint says eventually. His voice is higher than usual. “What the hell?”

Phil raises his hands in supplication. “I saw you looking at them last time we were out shopping.”

Clint takes the present out of the box, holding it up with three fingers. It’s a rather elegantly cut pair of panties, deep purple and so fine they’re almost sheer. There’s a thick, decorative line of lace around the waistband and a tiny fold of ribbon at the very front. Clint stares at it like it has both personally offended and confused him at the same time.

“Why the fuck did you buy me women’s underwear?”

“Well, first of all, it’s not _women’s_ underwear. If you’re wearing it, then it’s _your_ underwear–”

“You bought me panties,” Clint says flatly. “And by the looks of it, not panties cut for a dick. So, if you want to be pedantic, and I know how you _love_ doing that, why did you buy me panties from the women’s department?”

“I told you, I saw you looking at them,” Phil repeats. “And you always spend a little extra time on things you want, even if you don’t get them.”

“Why would you think I would want these?” Clint turns his attention back to the panties. He rubs the tips of his fingers against the material. It feels like water in his hands. “You’ve never seen me wear women’s underwear. I even don’t own any for you to make assumptions about.”

“You had never been to that Thai place on West Forty-ninth, either, but I knew you wanted gaeng daeng last week.”

Clint’s brow furrows. “This is a bold accusation, Coulson.”

“Look, it’s possible I made a mistake,” Phil says. “God knows it’s happened before. If you really don’t want them, you can return them and I’ll play groveling boyfriend for a few days.”

Clint snorts in spite of himself.

“But if you decide you do want them after all, they’re all yours.” Phil fishes his wallet out of his back pocket and hands Clint the gift receipt with the price ripped off. Sure enough, Clint automatically scans the scrap of paper and scowls when he sees the tear mark. “Hey. It was a gift. Doesn’t matter how much it costs.”

“Yes, it does,” Clint says, quietly but petulantly. He places the panties back in the box with the receipt on top of them and drops the box on the table like it’s on fire.

“No, it doesn’t. If you return them, the money goes straight back to my bank account. No harm, we pretend it never happened. But if you keep them…” Phil nods at the box. “I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing you in them.”

Clint shakes his head in exasperation and grabs his jacket out of the front closet. It’s warm out, so he just throws it over his arm as he unlocks all the interior locks to his apartment. “Come on, we’ll be late.”

Phil picks up his work bag again and hurries out the door after Clint to hail a cab while Clint locks everything back up.

 

And that’s that. The box seems to vanish. Phil doesn’t go looking for it and Clint doesn’t bring it up, so Phil assumes Clint has returned the panties. He does feel rather embarrassed about being so off the mark – usually his radar for things Clint wants is fairly spot on. He apologizes a couple times and Clint waves him off, but the archer is just a little distant for a few days and then everything goes back to normal.

Until one day, Phil sees Clint walking the opposite direction down the hall. Clint isn’t with anyone and neither is Phil, so he allows himself one good, long, appreciative look up and down Clint’s body. Normally Clint doesn’t mind when Phil does this, even thinks that it’s funny, but this time, he blushes as Phil’s gaze sweeps over him.

Phil raises his eyebrows in confusion until his eyes hit Clint’s waist and he sees just a sliver or purple lace peeking out from Clint’s belt.

Phil’s throat suddenly feels very dry.

“Agent Barton, I’d like to speak to you in my office, if you’ve got a minute.”

“I… Um,” Clint says helpfully. He glances from side to side, but there’s no one coming who he can use as a distraction and he doesn’t actually have any work he needs to do right now (besides post-mission reports, which he doesn’t count anyway). So he nods and says, “Sure,” and hopes his voice is more steady than it feels.

Phil’s office is only a few halls away, so they walk side by side in silence until the door is closed behind them and both locks are in place.

Then Phil reaches up and pulls Clint down by his jacket collar pushes him up against the wall and kisses him hard.

Clint makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but his hands are already on Phil’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Phil fists a hand in Clint’s hair and tugs lightly and Clint gasps into the kiss.

“You’re wearing them,” Phil says. His voice sounds harsh already.

Clint goes bright red and averts his eyes. “Yeah, okay? I am. I like them. I didn’t take them back. Fucking sue me.”

”How do they feel?”

Clint mumbles something and looks away.

Phil pushes himself up as much as he can and licks a stripe along Clint’s throat. “Go on. You can tell me.”

“Nice?” Clint volunteers. Phil gently nips at the skin of his throat and he shivers. “Tight? Really soft…”

Phil cups the sight outline of Clint’s cock through his pants and grinds the heel of his hand down a little. “How’s that feel?”

Clint bites his lip and nods. “Good.”

“Can I see?”

Clint flushes darker, but he reaches down anyway and undoes his belt and fly and pushes hist pants down around his thighs.

He’s absolutely right in that the panties are not at all cut for anyone with a penis. Clint’s cock is straining against the front of them and he’s not hard at all. But other than that, they look perfect. Phil has a good eye for size, and had spend enough time looking at both Clint’s ass and the sizing line of the shop they passed that his guess ended up being spot on. The thin material hugs Clint’s hips tightly and the lace frames the jut of his hip bones beautifully. Phil licks his lower lip without thinking as he traces one fingertip over the waistband. Clint squirms, but doesn’t move away.

“They look good,” he says eventually.”

“Thanks?” Clint tries. His voice has gone a little high again. “I didn’t think…”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t think you’d notice them,” Clint admits. “I didn’t wear them so you’d see.”

“Nor did I buy them strictly because I wanted to see you in them,” Phil counters. “I bought them because you wanted them.”

Clint presses his lips together and looks at the ceiling.

“Of course, seeing you in them…” Phil looks at Clint, and then at his watch. “Do you have anything to do? Any meetings?”

“No, just post-mission reports.”

“And you’ll never do those anyway.”

Clint lets out a shaky laugh.

“Would you mind if I…?” Phil drops down onto one knee and places his hands lightly on Clint’s hips. The silky material is so smooth and warm to the touch. Phil feels a rush of heat low in his belly.

“Don’t you have work?” Clint asks.

“I always have work. Maybe I’ll just take a little break from work,” Phil suggests lightly.

“Okay. Alright, yeah.” Clint hesitantly rests his hand on Phil’s head and runs his fingers through Phil’s hair. “If you really want to.”

“Trust me, Clint, there’s very little I’d rather do right now.”

Clint swallows hard. Phil can see his throat contract. It’s a good look for Clint.

Phil strokes his thumb over the outline of Clint’s cock. The silk is almost hot to the touch and so smooth. Clint lets out a slow breath through his nose as Phil fits his palm around the bulge in the panties and squeezes gently.

“Phil,” Clint warns breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“You gonna get– I mean, they’re gonna stain.”

“You’re not close already, are you?” Phil asks, genuinely curious.

“No, ‘course not, but just…” Clint snaps at the waistband lightly with his finger. “I don’t want to ruin them, okay?”

“Okay.” Phil hooks his thumbs in the front of the panties and slowly pulls them down, just enough for Clint’s cock to slip out. He tucks the waistband just under Clint’s balls, to make sure they stay pulled down, before he takes Clint’s cock in hand again. Clint shudders a little above him.

“You’re gonna stretch ‘em.”

“No I won’t. They’re supposed to stretch. And besides, they look good like this,” Phil says.

He leans forward and nuzzles the base of Clint’s cock, where the lace cuts up sharply and loops around Clint’s hip. Even bunched up, the fabric feels terribly soft. Phil reaches around and grabs Clint’s ass, just because he can. Clint squirms and rolls his hips forward a little without meaning to.

“You’re eager,” Phil murmurs. He traces the cut of the panties with the tip of his tongue. Clint nearly chokes above him.

“Well, I mean, you are down there.”

“So I am.” Phil reaches up with this free and and rolls Clint’s balls in the palm of his hand. Clint grunts above him and tries to push Phil’s head toward his cock, but Phil just butts his forehead gently against Clint’s hip. “Behave.”

Clint scowls, but he doesn’t try to push Phil again.

Phil traces back down the line of the lace waistband and starts laying tiny licks along the hot skin of Clint’s balls. Clint squirms again, and his cock, almost fully hard now, brushes against Phil’s cheek. “Phil, c’mon.”

“Hush.”

Phil grips Clint’s hips tightly to hold him still against the wall as he works his way up Clint’s cock, one slow centimeter at a time. Clint is twitching with the strain of not moving. Every now and then, a shiver runs through his whole body, but he keeps his hands and his hips still, so Phil continues his slow ministrations.

He’s been up and down the length of Clint’s cock twice, teasing the slit and working the flat of his tongue along the vein that runs down the underside. Phil had pinned Clint’s hands to the wall with his own earlier on, and Clint seems to appreciate the pin because it allows him to put up a bit of a struggle. Clint likes putting up a bit of a struggle. He could easily break free from Phil’s grip, but he doesn’t and never would. Phil likes that about him. He appreciates the trust.

Finally, Clint lets out a tiny, broken moan and says, “Phil, please?”

Phil smiles to himself, satisfied, and leans back on his heels. “Please what?”

“Fuck, you’re an asshole, please stop teasing.”

“Ask nicely,” Phil says. He gently pulls the waistband down and tucks Clint’s balls back behind it. Clint hisses as the lace rubs against the extra-sensitive skin and his cock twitches minutely.

“Please? Come on, Phil, just– please, just suck me off, ‘m fucking hard and we’re at work and someone might come in–”

“They won’t come in,” Phil says calmly. “I locked the door. I could keep you hear a while longer if I wanted.”

“No, Phil, please don’t, just let me?” Clint says, slightly breathless. “If you don’t wanna suck me off I can do it myself, just, please.”

Phil smiles up at him and squeezes his hip. “Of course I’m gonna do it. I wouldn’t just leave you here, all wrapped up pretty and nowhere to go.”

Clint blushes again.

“Since you asked so nicely, I suppose I could.” Phil wets his lips with his tongue and then leans forward and takes just the head of Clint’s cock in his mouth.

To Clint’s credit, he doesn’t make very much noise, because one of his hands wrenches free from Phil’s grip and flies up to cover his mouth. The walls are thick in this area of the SHIELD offices for obvious security reasons, so there’s no chance of anyone hearing them anyway, but Phil supposes it’s a good idea to play it safe.

He gives up his grip on Clint’s other wrist to brace against the wall and wraps his fingers around the base of Clint’s cock, stroking up as he swallows him down and pulling back down as he pulls way. Clint lets out a satisfied sigh and his head drops back against the wall with a loud, painful-sounding thud. Phil thinks about stopping and asking him if he’s okay, but he doesn’t think Clint would appreciate it very much.

Phil inhales through his nose and presses down as much as he can, lips meeting his fingers. Clint fails to hide his groan, fails to steady his hips as they jerk up just slightly. He must be getting close - the closer Clint gets to coming, the more his self-control starts to break down. It’s fun to play with that, but Phil doesn’t have the time or the patience to properly wreck Clint right now. Maybe some other time, when they’re home and they don’t have meetings to go to and papers to sign and Phil can lay Clint out on the bed and peel him out of those purple silk panties and hold him on edge for hours…

Clint tugs gently on Phil’s hair like he knows what Phil’s thinking. “Phil, ‘m close, come on.”

Phil swallows the spit that’s accumulated in his mouth and pulls off. “You want to come now?”

“Yes, oh my God, don’t do this,” Clint says, covering his face with one hand. His cock bobs in Phil’s face as he shifts against the wall. “Don’t send me back out there like this, it’ll be so fucking obvious.”

“You worried about getting caught in panties?” Phil asks.

“I’m worried about running into Hill or Fury with a boner!”

Phil chuckles. “That’s fair, I suppose. Be quiet, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Clint says, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice, but it breaks when Phil swallows him down again, nearly to the base, and the lace rubs hard against the underside of his cock and it’s too much sensation all at once. He bites down on the muscle of his hand to keep himself from thrusting into Phil’s mouth too much, and Phil rewards him by not pulling off, by sucking harder and working his tongue along the head of his cock and – shit – the faintest scrape of teeth along that vein–

Clint swears quietly as he comes, one hand in Phil’s hair and one hand over his own mouth, hips twitching weakly as he tries to stay upright. Phil swallows around him, dragging little edges of sensation out as he slowly pulls off and gives Clint one last cursory suck to make sure he’s gotten everything. Clint sighs shakily and slumps back against the wall, flexing his hand where there are now faint indents of his own teeth. Phil takes Clint’s cock and carefully tucks it back into the panties. He’s not quite soft yet, so the head just peaks out from the lace waistband. Phil pats it gently and Clint hisses at the slight overstimulation.

He holds out his hand and Clint takes them and pulls him up again. Phil stretches his legs and rolls his shoulders, then grins and Clint and goes to sit at his desk. “Don’t you have work to do, Agent Barton?”

“I– what?” Clint says. His eyes still look a little hazy. “Don’t you–?”

“I certainly do,” Phil replies, picking up a stack of paper and shuffling through them. “Do you?”

“Uh… Yes, sir,” Clint says slowly. “I’ll just be doing that, then.” He pulls his pants back up and redoes his fly and his buckle and turns to leave.

“Barton,” Phil calls.

Clint turns around. “Yes, sir?”

“I’ll see you tonight.”

Clint blinks, and then smiles a little. “Yes, sir.”

“Barton.”

“What?”

“Your lace is showing.”

Clint looks down and flushes again and tugs his pants up. Phil laughs as he smoothes his jacket down and slips out the door.

 

 


End file.
